I Will Lay me Down
by Dispatch22705
Summary: Booth and Brennan have argued the whole day, but the Simon and Garfunkel classic song calls up memories and gives them something else to think about.


**A couple points of clarification.**

**A few of you have commented on how amazing it is that I have written all of these stories in 24 hours. Oh, please let me tell you that I have been stockpiling stories and chapters for months. I have just been proofing them and posting them today, that's all. Writing all of this on the spot would be incredible, and I would like to shake the hand of the person who could do that. But that person is not me, haha. **

**Secondly, and meant to say this earlier, but sleeplessinatlanta helped me a LOT with my story ideas. She tossed ideas my way and also gave me feedback on a lot of things I wasn't sure about. If you haven't read any of her stories…go check them out. You will not be sorry! She has a very keen eye for keeping B&B in character, and when I would present ideas, I always could trust her feedback. I honestly would not have been ready for this day without her help. And encouragement. And foot in the back. Haha.**

**Thirdly, there isn't sex in this story either, but I'm keeping it in the M-rated section, because well, after 19 hours, it's just tradition, haha. But, I don't want to be the type to just shove in a sex scene if it doesn't fit.**

**Anyways…**

**I had heard this song many times in my life, but for some reason, one day when I listened to it, I thought of B&B. That's not too hard to explain, after all…I think about them a lot, haha. It's a one shot.**

**--b&b—**

Booth sighed as he started the ignition, and he spared a glance over toward Brennan. "You alright?'

The question was forced at best. Compulsory? Partnerly? Whatever, he had to ask. Of course, she ignored him. Hell, he'd probably ignore himself too. So, he'd been pissy all day. It happens. But, he also admitted to himself, that wasn't really an excuse for the way he'd called her out back there.

_She was being ridiculous_.

Booth tossed another quick glance toward his partner, just to make sure she hadn't somehow read his thoughts. _Well, yeah_, he thought to himself, _but when is she not kind of ridiculous_?

His self-justification didn't soothe his thoughts, or the wound in his arm. It stung, just like the disappointed look in her eyes had stung.

Pulling in a deep breath, he stopped at a red light and tapped the steering wheel, pursing his lips as he looked at her once again. She was still sitting very still, very prim and perfect and he thought her feelings might be hurt, but he wasn't sure.

But they still had thirty minutes of drive time left, and he really didn't want to get into another fight with her. No, he just wanted to take her to her apartment and then go home, pour himself a scotch and put the day behind him.

A quick glance at the clock proved that they were making pretty good time, and he flicked his wrist over the dial, turning on the radio. He felt more than saw Brennan flinch, but when she didn't say anything, he didn't say anything.

The music was pretty low, and unless he was really listening, he couldn't really hear the words. He thought he saw Brennan relax a bit, but he didn't want to stare at her. She was probably just glad the silence was gone.

Silence wasn't really their thing. They were more of a talk it out kind of a team.

_Or yell it out._

Once again, Booth couldn't help but look over to his partner as his mind worked through the events of the night.

They'd gotten the call while sitting at the diner for dinner, and the waitress had waved them off, saying they could pay next time they came in. "Now, that's what I call loyalty, Bones." He'd told her, pressing his hand to her back as they quickly made their way to the SUV.

She'd disagreed, saying it was common sense. "We're law enforcement officers, and therefore, we serve a higher purpose, which she obviously understood."

"No…" Booth had argued. "First of all, you're not a law enforcement officer. I am, and you…consult."

He should have known right then and there that the night wasn't going to go well, but he'd been too concerned with proving his point. "And furthermore, we're not above the law."

"What?" she'd scoffed. "Paying for food at the diner is not a law."

"Yes, it is, Bones. If you don't pay, that's stealing, and _that's_ breaking the law."

"But we didn't steal."

"I know!"

They'd both realized they were shouting and had quieted up, retreating to their own windows, as if it represented more personal space in the front seat of the SUV.

And once they'd gotten to the crime scene, it had gone even further downhill. She'd snapped at him for standing too close to the evidence, and once the team was prepared to help her, she informed them that as a _consultant_, she'd appreciate it if they would ship the remains back to the Jeffersonian.

"Bones…" he'd barked out. "Cut it out."

"What?" she'd tossed her hands in the air, and everyone around them stopped and stared. "Isn't that what you'd said? I consult."

"No…I said you weren't a law enforcement officer, AND you consult."

"I am sure everyone here appreciates the clarification."

By this time, they'd reached the point of standing very near one another, faces almost pressed together in anger.

And no one could have predicted the gunfire from the nearby street. When Booth had heard the shot, he turned and then fell to the ground, his hand clutching his left shoulder.

"I'm okay" he'd held up his right hand right away. "Just a flesh wound."

With wary eyes, he'd looked up to Brennan, and she'd stared at him, then quietly moved everyone away and examined him.

"I thought you didn't like flesh" he'd tried to joke when she peeled the side of his shirt off of his shoulder, but she didn't laugh; she didn't even reply, just cleaned the wound and applied bandages.

And now, his shoulder still ached. And his mind began to ache at the stony silence between them.

**--b&b--**

The soft sounds of the beginning notes slipped through the speakers.

"I know this song" Brennan whispered, and Booth immediately turned up the volume a small bit.

"Yeah, me too. Simon and Garfunkel. Classic."

Their eyes met and Booth offered a hesitant smile that wasn't exactly returned, but wasn't scorned either.

_When you're weary, feeling small  
When tears are in your eyes,  
I will dry them all_

Brennan's eyes were wide and hard to read. "This was my parents' song…whatever that means."

Booth's throat felt sort of tight. "Yeah" he repeated. "Mine too."

_I'm on your side  
When times get rough _

Brennan swallowed with uncertainty and Booth let out a shuddered breath. He'd never really listened to the words before, and now, hearing them, with her…

It brought back some memories. Memories of actual good times. His mom smiling in the kitchen, his dad pulling her into his arms for a slow dance when the song came on the radio they kept in the kitchen for weather reports and baseball games.

He'd snuck downstairs for a glass of water, hoping not to disturb anyone, and had stood outside the kitchen door, watching in surprise. It was one of the first memories he had of love between a man and a woman. Dancing in the kitchen.

_When you're down and out  
When you're on the street  
When evening falls so hard  
I will comfort you  
_

Booth's throat felt tight and then…

Her head was resting on his shoulder. He looked down to her quickly, but didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle, just let the moment wash over them. He wasn't sure if she was thinking about him, or her parents or what. Was she comforting him? Seeking comfort?

_  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down _

But he knew, in that moment, he would do anything for her. It broke his heart that he'd even been the cause of pain in her eyes, even once.

The music ended, but she didn't move away. And he didn't put his arm around her or move anything at all, until they reached her apartment.

It had been awhile since he'd walked her to her door; it had been awhile since he'd brought her home.

She didn't say anything, but just moved away from him, and opened her door. Booth wondered if he should follow her up, and when he moved his tired arm, he noticed a tiny wet spot on his jacket. He hadn't even known she'd been crying.

Wincing as he reached over his body with his right hand to open his door, he gingerly got out of the SUV, keeping his left arm close to his body. It still hurt like hell, and he still wanted a glass of scotch, but it was going to have to wait.

They were both silent as they rode up the elevator to her floor, and when she used her key to open her door and stepped through without closing it or saying anything, Booth followed her inside.

Then she turned and looked at him, and then reached with her hand to touch his arm.

"Look, Bones" he rasped, unable to stand the silence any longer. "I'm sorry about today."

Her eyes met his and she nodded. "Me too." Her fingers traced along his wound, and she sighed. "This never should have happened."

"Bones…" he lowered his voice. "Don't do that. This is not your fault."

"But…" her voice grew in pitch and her tone was more frantic than before. "How can you say that? We were arguing, and then…"

He used his hand to grab her hand. "We. _We,_ Bones. We were arguing. You and I were _both_ arguing. And yeah, it was dumb, and…" he blew out a frustrated breath. "I don't want to argue with you like that."

She turned away and took two steps into her apartment before turning back around to face him. "Why do we do that?"

Booth knew what she meant. "I don't know, Bones. Maybe…" he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Maybe it's because we are trying to cover up for a different hurt," he offered as he took a step closer to her.

She didn't back away, but just stared at him. "You sound like Sweets."

Booth chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, probably. But you know what I mean," he took another step toward her. "We're lashing out, or whatever."

She stepped to him, and they were very close. Her fingertips settled against his arm, and his forehead rested against hers.

"I don't want to argue with you either, Booth." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "And I know what you're saying, but…" Her chest expanded with breath. "I'm not ready for you yet. I know that…everything happens eventually," her eyes flickered up to meet hers. "I'm just not ready for that."

Booth felt his throat close up at her words. "I know," he nodded. "It's okay. We'll know when we're ready."

"We?" she asked.

"Yeah, Bones." He couldn't resist pressing his hand to the small of her back and just kissing her forehead, pleased when she didn't pull away but instead seemed to sink deeper into his arm.

"I…" she pulled in a shuddered breath. "I need for you to stop stepping in front of bullets."

"I can't do that, Bones." Booth pressed his chin to the top of her head. "You know I can't promise that. As long…as long as I live, I live to protect you. Do you understand that?"

Her face crumpled slightly, and she pressed her cheek to his chest. She didn't cry, but just nodded against him.

"Please say yes," he begged, and her fingers tightened in his shirt.

"Yes," Brennan whispered.

Booth held her for a long time before she pulled back. Brennan led him to her couch and then used a fresh washcloth to clean his wound, re-covering it with new bandages.

Booth stared at her face all the while, as he settled some things in his heart. He thought maybe she was ready, more ready than she let on, or knew about.

But he could wait. He would wait. He would lay himself down if he had to.

--b&b—

Next up is "Black" in the Color story series. After Booth confesses to Max that he loves Brennan, he takes him to see where Brennan lived as a foster child.

Booth must then deal with the emotions he feels from that experience.


End file.
